























Where, When, and How to cultivate the acquaintance of 
Bob White in his home throughout the vast regions 
from Virginia to Florida, from Kentucky to the 
Gulf of Mexico, from the Atlantic Ocean 
to the Mississippi River 



DEDICATED TO EVERY LOVER OF THE 
ONE GAME BIRD WHO ADAPTS HIM¬ 
SELF TO HUMAN CIVILIZATION, YET 
RETAINS ALL OF HIS WILD QUALITIES 



By Henry Wysham Lanier 

«* 




Southern Railway System 











.P3L.3 


2S ob IVkite 


North of Mason and Dixon’s Line, the Quail ; South, the Partridge. 

To the scientist, Colinus Virgianus; Order, Gallinae; Family, Odontophoridae. 

To every outdoor person who has listened with delight to his mellow call, 
Bob White. 

Length, 10 inches; stretched wings, 15 inches. Male with white throat, bordered 
with black; female with a yellowdsh-browm throat; both with white line above 
eye. “Bill dark brown, iris hazel, feet grayish blue. Upper part of head, 
hind and lower neck reddish browm. Upper back and wing coverts bright 
brownish red; lower neck light yet tinged w r ith yellow. Primaries 
dusky, externally margined with blue; secondaries irregularly barred with 
light red. Tail grayish blue, except middle feathers, w 7 hich are dull grayish 
yellow, sprinkled w T ith black. Under parts white, streaked with brownish red, 
transversely and undulatingly barred with black. Sides and under tail coverts, 
reddish.”— (A udubon.) 

Nest, built in May, on ground, usually by a fence or hedgerow, of leaves and dry 
grass, well covered above, with opening on one side. Eggs 15 to 24, pure 
white, without spots. Sometimes two or even three broods in a season. 

Food, grains (especially buckwheat and corn), cow r peas, weed seeds (particularly 
ragweeds), insects, and berries. 

Roost, at night, on ground, frequently among old stumps or low growth at edge 
of a feeding field, the covey resting in a circle, heads outward, to catch ap¬ 
proaching danger from any side. They remain in this grouping during a 
snow or sleet storm and are often killed off by heavy snows turning to freezing 
rain that forms a crust. 

Calls, first the two familiar notes usually translated bob-w r hite, often with a lower 
introductory note; in spring and early summer, calls as from a perch or a tree 
or fence, and occasionally lights in trees when flushed. When the covey is gath¬ 
ered and about to flush, a low twittering, much like the feeble chitter of the 
half-grown birds; when separated and anxious to get together for the night, a 
loud, plaintive, rising w r histle, repeated over and over till the covey is united 
again. 

Habitat, old fields, especially near grain; open woods, particularly those with 
clearings and ragw r eeds; in most sections, Bob White is semi-domesticated, 
being more plentiful where the farmers raise much corn and peas; during the 
heat of the day, he often goes to the low ground or creek bottoms and swamps; 
at some time in the afternoon, like all gallinaceous birds, he finds a dusting spot 
and squatters about in the soft* duJst. On very cold mornings the covey is not 
apt to stir until the sun is \yelh'up, and by sundown he likes to be safely 
gathered together at the covey’s roosting place. 

Migratory, only under certain conditions, observers having noted large packs on 
the move in Maryland and Virginia. Ordinarily a fixed resident of the fields 
and woods where he “uses.” 

The most rapid and startling of all game birds in taking wing, the swiftest flyer, 

the hardest to find and kill with certainty—in short, 



RECEIVED 

h 


ku\i y \m 

DOCUMENTS DIVISION 











The Land of 
Tiob JVhite 

OUBTLESS the good Lord could have made a better 
game bird than Bob White, and better country to hunt him 
in than our Southern States, but equally doubtless He 
never did. 

There was quail-shooting north of Mason and Dixon’s 
Line once upon a time. One of those maddening yet 
delightful sportsman’s books of the forties tells of hunting 
in New Jersey when it was a normal thing to flush twenty 
to thirty coveys in a day! 

And the present writer (whose hair does have to be kept 
well trimmed because it gets so blamed gray when it really 
shows its inner self, but who is still some decades from the 
“lean and slippered pantaloon”) can remember only too well when it was 
practicable to move half a dozen coveys in a hard day’s tramp, with good 
dogs, within commuting distance of the Manhattan Babylon. 

But there came a succession of winters with deep snows and zero tempera¬ 
tures which crusted the drifts—and Bob White is no ruffled grouse to stand 
this sort of igloo life; so his tribe apparently vanished from the land; his 
cheery call sounded no longer across the gay spring meadows; the mowing- 
machine did not have to be run carefully along the rough, overgrown edges 
of the hayfields lest it decapitate Madame White cherishing her score of 
precious white eggs; the setters raced across country on October Sunday 
tramps with never a check because a familiar, thrilling scent smote their 
sensitive nostrils. 

So his friends, who adored Bob, sighed and as they passed a bushy piece 
of woods where they remembered in some bygone season a “hot corner” 
on nicely scattered singlers, they sighed again and murmured, “Them was 
the happy days.” 

But for at least one ardent sportsman this dire act of Providence, com¬ 
pletely camouflaged as it was at the time, proved to be virtually a blessing 
in disguise; for, the companionship of Bob White being necessary to his 
existence, he was driven to seek him farther afield and thus made his 
acquaintance in his true home in the Carolinas and points south. 

So, looking back at it today, he is disposed to adopt a Panglossian atti¬ 
tude, that “whatever is, is right,” and to be actually grateful for those 
hyperborean rigors which, by destroying the home quail supply, sent him 
to the land where the word “birds” denotes a single ornithological species. 

For the truth is that he no longer counts the year from January first, 
or by the conventional monthly calendar. No; any given day is not the 
twenty-fifth of the month, or the beginning of spring, or the herald of the 
dog days—it is so many weeks from that auspicious afternoon, somewhere 




Six 


The Land of Bob White 


from November 1 to February 1, when he is to find himself installed in 
the southbound sleeper, with the crated dogs sent on ahead and the pet 
guns in the unbreakable fiber case in the baggage-car—and another bout at 
the Carolina quail directly ahead of him. 

The following evening he is faring sumptuously on juicy quail, broiled 
as only a darky chef can broil them, and real cornbread made with sour 
milk, and all the other gastronomic delights which would be seductive 



enough after city cold-storage foods, even without a shocking appetite or 
the big room where the Home Spirit many years ago took up his permanent 
abiding-place, because the pine logs on the big hearth blazed and crackled 
with such irresistible warmth and cheer. 

And the next morning—! 

Well the real ecstasy of that first morning of bird-shooting, after months 
at an office desk, can’t be confined into stodgy prose. It would require 
Bacchic dithyrambs to express the abandoned thrill of it all, when one feels 
the playful nip of the morning air—just crisp enough to make tramping 
the inevitable thing and a complete joy in itself, no matter whether the bird 
crop be plentiful or slim. 

Before Jinny mule has fairly stopped at the spot selected for the start 
of the day’s hunt, the eager dogs are tumbling headlong out of the buggy. 
They know what’s up just as well as you do: the moment for justifying 



Southern Railway System 


Seven 


their existence, for proving the staunchness of their Llewellyn-Laverack 
pedigree, has arrived. Cutting off incautious gray squirrels from their den 
trees by sudden dashes along the sheltering stone walls is all very well up 
there in Yankee-land, but this is the life for a Kentucky-bred setter with 
generations of bird-nose and bird sense behind him. 

The minute their itching paws hit the earth they are off in a headlong 
dive down the ravine, as if possessed by the demon of the Gadarene swine. 



ALL ATTENTION 


Restraining much the same emotion, you shed the heavy old overcoat and, 
half-shamefaced at your boyish impatience, utilize the moments while placid 
Jim hitches Jinny mule to a tree to slip a couple of shells into the 16-gauge, 
stroking its sleek, oiled barrels and shining walnut stock affectionately and 
wondering that the calm rhythm of Jim’s existence can preserve its un¬ 
emotional regularity when your own fingers are trembling. 

At last Jinny is anchored to Jim’s satisfaction. You follow in the direc¬ 
tion of the vanished dogs, hardly seeing the gorgeous belated autumn colors, 
or the rich, glossy greens of the swamp shrubs and vines, as you peer about 
for some glimpse of the familiar black-and-white bodies that crashed through 
the underbrush a few moments before. 

Presently, after a rapid quarter-mile push, even stolid Jim gives an 
exclamation as he points ahead. 

“She’s got ’em a’ready!” says he. 





Eight 


The Land of Bob White 


Sure enough, there is the little lady “plante-la,” as our Allies would say, 
pointed toward a bunch of ragweed, where the woods and cornfield meet— 
as motionless as if, like Milton’s sable goddess, she had 

“Forgot herself to marble.” 

But though she has forgotten herself, she has not forgotten her job. Every 
silky hair on her little body is charged with electrical excitement. That 
sensitive, slender nose twitches in a very delirium as it revels in the hot scent 



A BIRD, EVEN A DEAD ONE, IN AN OPEN, BARE FIELD, IS A BIT SUSPICIOUS 


of a covey of quail a few feet in front of her, who had been on their way 
from the roosting-ground to the cornfield breakfast-room, when her ap¬ 
proach halted them in their tracks beneath the sheltering weeds. 

Your nerves spring taut as a fiddle-bow, as you slide forward the safety 
catch and. with gun ready, step cautiously forward from behind her rigid tail. 

You reach her shoulder, her head, her nose. One more step forward. 
Then there is a dynamite explosion in the weeds almost under your feet. 
The air is full of round, solid chunks blown upward by the blast; full, 
too, of a roaring like that of a sudden mighty wind. The chunks resolve 
themselves into fluffy, feathered balls, being propelled away by strong winds 
at railroad-train speed. 

Though your mind was braced and ready for them, though you have 
been through exactly the same thing some thousand of times before; in 










Southern Railway System 


Nine 


spite of everything, your nerves blow up also! In a swift panic lest the 
rapidly receding prizes reach the shelter of the woods before you get in a 
shot—you fire. 

Down whirls the rearmost of the fleeing bevy with a broken wing—just 
twelve yards away, you find out afterward. Had you waited till he had 
covered twice this distance, you would probably have killed him clean. At 
such range a shotgun is almost like a rifle, the pellets still being in close 
mass instead of scattered. 



But this humiliating evidence of “jumpy” city nerves steadies you. 
Swinging to the left, you see the gun-barrels settle against a diminishing 
black point almost at the edge of wooded safety, and you are filled, before 
your finger presses the trigger, with the triumphant conviction that that is 
your quail. Even so. He drops as if a thunderbolt had smitten him. The 
pup proudly retrieves him from the ditch at the edge of the old field. 

With feathers carefully smoothed down, the pair go into the big pocket 
of your shooting coat. And with those oft-repeated (and oft-broken) vows 
to keep cool next time and take it slo^vly, you and Jim plunge into the 
belt of pines to work up the singlers. , 

Alas for resolutions, when they stand in the way of hair-trigger nerves! 
The dogs flush the first of the scattered birds before anybody is expecting 
such an event! You get a lightning-quick snap-shot between two pines, and 





Ten 


The Land of Bob White 


damage nothing but the bark and your own feelings. At the report, 
another plump cock gets up almost behind you. You take a chance over 
a tall clump of gall-berries, and score another clean miss. Then comes one 
of those ghastly quarter-hours of complete demoralization. Six chances, 
two of them easy, clear straightaways, and not a bird bagged! 

You stride away from those parts to look for another covey, in a whirl 
of mixed despair and resolve. 

So it goes on. When the sun stands square ahead at noon, you have 



A PERFECT COVEY IN PERFECT QUAIL COUNTRY 


moved six coveys, fired thirty-odd shells, and there are ten birds in the old 
coat pocket. 

You have covered perhaps ten miles of tangled weeds and briars, sedge, 
woods, thicket, and swamp. The dogs have probably raced five times as far. 

All hands (and especially feet) are more than ready to rest. You drop 
to earth, consume a generous lunch of sandwiches, cold quail, cake and 
fruit, and then stretch out for a three-pipe laze in the hot sun of the in¬ 
auspicious noon hours. Your memory brings up each covey found, each 
single bird, for decision as to why they were in those special places at those 
particular times, the cause of their behaving as they did, the traits of the 
dogs as evidenced on these occasions—and above all, ad infinitum and 
ad nauseam, the reasons for each separate and individual miss. 

Even gloating over the big, powerful birds, with their beautiful red-and- 
yellow-brown plumage, the glossy chocolate-colored caps of the cocks—even 
this satisfying visual evidence of accomplishment is somewhat soured by the 




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Eleven 


obtrusive knowledge that three dozen empty shells are decidedly out of 
proportion to less than one dozen pocketed quail. 

To be sure, while I have often heard of, and talked to, these blase past- 
masters who “never miss a quail,” I never yet happened to be in the field 
with one. There are undoubtedly many experts who could on a wager kill 
twenty-five birds with twenty-five shells, but it would be a case of picking 
the sure shots and open-country covey rises. The man doesn’t live who 
can do that while taking every killable chance in the open, the scrub-oak 
thicket, the pine woods, the untangled swamp. Shooting for the sport, and 



THEY SCOUR THE OPEN FIELD AND WORK THE SEDGE AND THICKETS AND FOREST EDGES 


not for personal vanity, day in and day out, the quail-hunter who bags 
half the birds he fires at may consider himself an excellent shot—though, 
of course, there will be inspired days, or even weeks, when the crack shot 
will account for three-fourths or even nine-tenths. 

But for most of us there is always that same element of allurement which 
is said to constitute the main attractiveness of a short story—the element of 
suspense. One is never sure of the game until it is in the retrieving dog’s 
mouth. (Even then the prize has been known to elude the sportsman— 
going down some half-broken pup’s mouth instead of into the coat pocket!) 

And always, after one has driven home in the orange-red sunset, and the 
following blackness of the belting pine forest, and has washed up and dulled 
the first ravenous appetite upon the gastronomic opulence spread before 





Twelve 


The Land of Bob White 


him—always then there is some problem of quail lore, some puzzle of the 
day, some question of gun experiments, some reason for an inexplicable miss, 
that needs to be worked out in conversation or in silent inner communion. 

It is this and the absorbing partnership with one’s dogs which, I fancy, 
chiefly constitute the peculiar charm of quail-shooting—that charm which 
makes the enthusiast go back and back to his favorite Southern haunt each 
season for a quarter of a century, scorning turkey-hunting, wild-fowling, 
big-game shooting, or any other form of gun-worship except his own peculiar 
rites. 



they’re THERE I JUST WHERE THEY OUGHT TO BE 


In addition, there are, of course, those accumulated memories of any long- 
repeated sport which enrich each successive season. 

One day’s round carries you past that blissful brush-pile where, upon a 
never-to-be-forgotten afternoon, you stood in your tracks, when a fleeing 
covey had taken refuge there, and with eight successive kicks against a log 
flushed eight successive birds, dropping them masterfully with eight suc¬ 
cessive shots with the right barrel of the little 16-gauge. That was living. 

Another brings back the magnificent old turkey-gobbler who suddenly 
flapped up out of the gall-berries when you were expecting a woodcock, and 
hit the ground with a soul-satisfying thump as you “snapped” him between 
two clumps of saplings. How his breast gleamed with burnished copper 
and iridescent hues in the level sunset rays! 




Southern Railway System 


T hirteen 


Still another includes that Homeric tramp which gave you your high 
record of 75 birds in a single day to your own gun—in the days when there 
was no bag limit and nobody dreamed there would ever be the necessity for 
such restrictions. 

There is the hill-top where a stout-hearted February cock bird, receiving 
a single pellet of number 9 shot through his glossy chocolate-brown head, 



READY TO STEP OFF 


“towered” till he quite disappeared from sight overhead, and then evidently 
struck out westward, since, going in that direction, the dogs found him 
fifteen minutes later, a good half-mile across the ravine from where he 
was hit. 

You laugh aloud for the hundredth time as you pass the old rotting log 
where big, eager Rod was one day digging madly with teeth and nails after 
a supposed wounded quail; and how placid Jim, fired into helping him by 
excavating with his bare hands from the other side, suddenly gave a howl 
and began an Indian war-dance as Rod’s eager teeth sank into his fingers— 
which the excited dog supposed the quarry—the quarry presently proving 
to be a fat and much-bewildered ’possum, which you presently presented to 
an old gray-wooled darkey woodchopper, making his toothless gums dribble 
vastly at the sight. 

When a man hunts one section for several consecutive seasons, there is 
hardly a piece of cover which does not assume the aspect of a familiar and 



Fourteen 


The Land of Bob White 


welcome friend, whose company is associated with “thundering good times” 
in the past, and brings the promise of more in the future. 

And after you’ve pursued Bob White assiduously for a quarter of a 
century, there’ll still be almost as many absorbing problems to speculate 
upon as Salmo salar offers to the wielders of the double-handed salmon rod, 
or as horse points and horse nature furnish to the follower of the hounds. 

It’s an art, a science, a career, not merely a sport, is quail-shooting. But 
it’s also a sport of sports —the sport, assert the veteran devotees. 

And what has the South to offer the man who decides to make this his 
avocation—or vocation (as is the case with some) ? 



Well, there is a great junk of country, averaging 800 miles wide, from 
the Atlantic Ocean to the Mississippi River, and perhaps 500 miles deep, 
say from Lynchburg to, roughly, the latitude of Palatka, covering most 
or all of eight great Southern States, which may fairly be called Bob 
White’s native land. Certainly, over 100,000 square miles of this is quail 
country—I should think it probably ran nearer 200,000. 

Which particular section of this vast territory a given devotee should aim 
for will depend largely upon the personality of the hunter. 

Certain obvious facts are frequently lost sight of. In this, as in practi¬ 
cally all fishing and shooting, the place which is extensively advertised, 
which has a huge hotel, with all the “luxuries” of a seashore summer resort, 







Southern Railway System 


Fifteen 


is not the place where the real quail-hunter is going to find the sort of 
shooting that furnishes red-letter days for the future. While there are one 
or two elaborate resorts which have preserved and stocked so intelligently 
that they can offer reasonable sport to their guests, it will practically always 
be found that definitely incompatible conditions are not to be had in the 
same place. The average run of the small hotels and boarding-houses in 
the best bird regions do not offer what a New York or Boston or Chicago 
sportsman considers first-class accommodations. 

There are places run by Southern gentlefolk, where recommended sports¬ 
men are taken in, which have as much better food and quarters and society 
as a real home is better than the best hotel. When you discover one of 
these, inscribe it on the tablet of your memory and offer the information 
only to those friends who are worthy and who can appreciate it—just as 
discriminatingly as you would offer a left-over bottle of vintage Pontet 
Canet. 

The man who likes American shooting as compared with lawn shooting 
of English-driven pheasants (just because he’s feeling so “survigrous” that 
even tramping twenty miles a day through scrub and briars and swamps 
isn’t enough and he rather enjoys testing his voracious appetite and arrogant 
digestion on fried bull steaks and Marathon-racer chickens and soggy corn- 
pone), such an adventurer will find no lack of backwoods cabins and wood- 
burning, cross-country-railroad “hotels,” where he can test his powers amid 
stretches of virgin quail country. 

I recall vividly more than one such—recall the shooting with keen 
reminiscent delight; recall with awed admiration the animal man the 
shooter must then have been; the ease with which he handled anything 
from “hawg an’ hom’ny” to stringy beef fried black; the humor of sleeping 
on corn husks or sleeping double on worn-out feather beds, which “raised” 
aloft when one sportsman turned over, almost hurling the other out; the 
pleasure of leaping out into the piercing cold of an unheated shed room 
during a January ice-storm and rushing, pajama clad, to the one central 
room of the cabin (the owner’s family of six occupying a couple of mys¬ 
terious cubbyholes by or in the kitchen), to bathe and dress in relaxing 
luxury before a roaring fire of “fat” pine knots, which faithful black Jim 
had going there—at first bending almost into the blaze, but presently driven 
by the blistering heat to the far wall of the apartment. 

And there was Tuscarora, of blessed memory, when the cameraman and 
the writer found themselves one happy December—quail in the “old fields” 
as thick as mosquitoes on the Long Island south shore, woodcock hopping 
up in the cane and pine and catbrier swamp thickets when you went in after 
a scattered covey, wild turkey handy if you cared to go after them. But 
quarters and food—well, much like those of a Maine backwoods pioneer 
cabin; and the only “guide” (needed for information as to posted land) 
the genial Irishman who was postmaster, storekeeper, farmer, and every¬ 
thing else, and whose “early start” in the morning generally strung itself 
along to between half-past ten and eleven, while New York nerves chafed 
and fretted at the thought of missing the morning coveys. 

For those who understand how to make themselves comfortable in the 
open, a couple of light tents and a camping outfit will, of course, solve the 



Sixteen 


The Land of Bob White 


problem ideally. In thirty years of sporting trips, I have never found but 
one place where the table was as good as any intelligent fisherman or shooter 
can have for himself in a fair game country. (Wild horses could not drag 
their name and address into type. But it might be revealed, as it has been 
before, to a brother quail-hunter with proper credentials!) 

Of course, too, the man who really cares for the outdoors is never satis¬ 
fied with sleeping under a roof if he can have a bed where he looks up at 
night and sees the branches overhead hung, like Christmas trees, with moon 
and stars. The cameraman referred to, for instance, took his bride on a 
wedding camping trip along a Florida river, camping at times amid mud 
and snakes with utter happiness, because he was an expert. 

Moreover, there are many wild sections, especially of north middle 
Georgia and northern Florida, where there are no houses within many 
miles of the region to be shot over, which can only be comfortably covered 
by camping. (Yes, the tin lizzie will serve at times from house to shooting 
grounds, ten or fifteen miles away; but then, again, even its indomitable 
get-there spirit breaks down before some of those “roads.” There are many, 
many places where walking is quicker and less exhausting.) 

Of course, for many the ideal solution may be offered by a club. There 
are scores of these in the Carolinas and Georgia, large and small, generally 
owning some hundreds or thousands of acres and leasing shooting rights 
over far more; and a desirable newcomer can usually find, by a bit of 
scouting about, some one in which he can buy a share or which is desirous 
of adding to its membership. If properly managed, this is naturally the 
acme of comfort and pleasure for the quail-hunter, unless he be of that 
strenuous breed which desires wildness and the companionship of black or 
white guide and his bird dogs only. 

It is rather desirable to investigate closely the characteristics of the mem¬ 
bers of such an organization before going into it, as the life is quite intimate, 
of evenings and non-shooting days; also, there are many where masculine 
diversions other than quail-hunting have come to take a somewhat too 
prominent part; and playing bridge (upon strong waters) till 2 a. m. is not 
conducive to killing your birds clean next morning or getting the fun or 
physical benefit from your trip. 

The man who strikes out for himself into strange country will need some 
tact in the matter of securing permissions. Hundreds of thousands of acres 
in the Carolinas have been bought and leased by wealthy individuals and 
clubs as quail preserves. There is still plenty of open territory; but, as in 
other sections, there is a growing tendency on the part of farmers and large 
landholders to supervise more closely the hunters who wander over their 
places. 

Remember, to begin with, that there are many poor chaps, struggling to 
wrest a living from a worn-out farm, who find it hard anyhow to keep 
down a certain resentment that others, more fortunate, strangers (“rich 
No’th’ners” to the ignorant), should have leisure and money enough to 
come way down there and spend weeks in messing round after birds. 
Remember particularly that, like the European travelers from the U. S. A. 
at whom the Continental peoples rage and laugh, the specimens from “the 
North” who invade these sections are not always fortunate representatives: 



Southern Railway System 


Seventeen 


and the Carolina farmer who has had his turkeys shot by some “sport” who 
took them for wild ones, and who then was rude and arrogant about it, 
can hardly be blamed for a lack of hospitable feeling toward the next un¬ 
invited stranger. 

But any decent person, of normal human feeling, can secure the privilege 
of hunting over most of the places not leased or preserved for some special 
region. With the lowest class, the stock arguments of money, tobacco, or 
liquids will, as always, prevail. With most you will find a most surprising 
natural friendliness an instinctive hospitality, which only wants to be assured 



PERFECT UNANIMITY OF OPINION, “BACKING UP" 


that you are the real thing to put at your disposal any facilities the owner 
has. Indeed, the lengths to which perfect strangers will go to make your 
stay pleasant would astonish anybody not familiar with this characteristic 
trait of the Southerner on his native heath. 

No rules can or need be given in this matter; the real sportsman will not 
only have no trouble, but the friendly acquaintances he makes will vie in 
pleasant memories with the thrills of his best days in the field. 

So much for the personal relations. Next, be sure to get a license. The 
rates differ in different States, averaging $15.00. You can possibly “get 
away with it” if you fail to observe this formality, but it doesn’t pay, from 
any point of view; and, like the fellow who enrages some landholder, you 
are muddying the spring for the next comer. 






Eighteen 


The Land of Bob White 


Also get from the secretary of the Audubon Society, or the local game 
warden or State official, a copy of the game laws of the State in which 
you’re going to shoot—and read them. North Carolina in particular has 
a most complicated set of local county regulations regarding licenses, bag 
limits, sale, and export. These are sometimes arbitrary and may seem 
absurd; but the true sportsman will see that it’s up to him to obey the law, 
or, if it is wrong, try to start a movement to change it. There’s an immense 
amount of law-breaking and wholesale slaughter among the negroes and 
poor whites, as regards game. I’ve seen a darky, before I could stop him, 
level his old muzzle-loader at an invisible huddled covey of quail ten yards 
away, in a grass clump (he had seen their eyes), and exterminate the whole 
bunch with one shot. I’ve shot in sections where the perplexing scarcity 
of birds was no longer perplexing when I came across half a dozen log- 
cabin coop traps sprinkled with familiar feathers, and presently had a young 
yahoo from an adjacent cabin offer to sell me eighteen birds for four bits. 
Get this fact firmly fixed in your mind: Here, just as in all rather unsettled 
regions, there are plenty of simple grown-up children who see no sense in 
conserving game anyhow; and if a man of more intelligence, whose superior 
advantages they inwardly respect, if he breaks the law, what chance is there 
that his guide or the ignorant half-grown country boy is going to keep it? 
If the results of such stupid actions by unthinking city sportsmen could be 
tabulated, they would make a showing which would render all of us mighty 
scrupulous in this matter; for not only do we help to destroy the game 
supply when we teach or encourage these people to disregard the statutes, 
we do much to confirm that justified reproach of every observer, American 
or foreign, that we are a race of lawbreakers. 

In the Carolinas the shooting divides itself into quite different kinds, 
determined by one’s distance from the seacoast. 

In the strip, nearly 400 miles long, stretching back from the ocean 75 to 
100 miles into North and South Carolina, the hunter finds flat lands—farms 
belted with pine woods and cut across by innumerable long tongues of 
swamp-bordered creeks and rivers, which widen near the coast into endless 
stretches of cypress swamp. Here the quail have many sure refuges in 
times of trouble; there’s not the slightest danger of ever “shooting out” this 
region; and the sportsman is apt to be mud up to his knees after a day’s 
tramp. These inaccessible swamps, too, harbor the wild turkeys, with deer, 
bear, and wildcats in many places near the seacoast. My impression is that 
there are more quail left here, and that there always will be, than in any 
other section of the Southern Atlantic States. 

Farther inland comes another strip, wider still, where the typical country 
is hilly, sometimes very rugged indeed, where great patches of territory 
are not to be hunted and where a good mule to ride is almost an essential. 
With a pair of dogs taught to range for miles, one rides across all sorts of 
country on the sure-footed mule, dismounting only when the dogs find birds. 

Then, in the extreme west, under the shadow of the great mountains, 
there is still another variety of hunting—mostly hunting. You find a covey, 
get a couple of shots on the rise—and look for another lot, since the scattered 
birds have gone into another zone, five hundred or a thousand feet farther 
down, or in another county. There’s a succession of unmatchable views up 



Southern Railway System 


Nineteen 


in these footstools of the Lord; but the serious quail-hunter will hie him 
back to where he can have his favorite diversion of following up the scat¬ 
tered bevy and handling the “singlers” like a craftsman. 

Going on down, Georgia offers a largely unexploited field to the ambitious 
quail-hunter. I shall not soon forget the look on the face of the Govern¬ 
ment hydrographic engineer whom I met on a duck-and-goose campaign 
down in the white-oak river country, as he told of an expedition into the 
untouched hill country of the north central section of that State, where 
one day he shot a hundred quail and the next four wild turkeys. Even 



PRESENTLY THE LADY FREEZES INTO A GRAVEN IMAGE 


allowing a liberal discount for spot cash, that must be a pleasant land for 
the man who likes to look along a gun-barrel. 

Figure it for yourself: Nearly 59,000 square miles in the heart of Bob 
White land, with a population of 2,560,000 outside of Atlanta, Macon, and 
Savannah. The same general conditions hold for north Florida, Alabama, 
southern Tennessee, and even more so for Mississippi. The man who 
likes to explore and dig out some brand new shooting territory, of which 
he only has the secret, will find plenty of chances in these parts. But he 
must be prepared to rough it and live off the country. 

Northern Florida has some magnificent quail shooting. It’s an open 
country, where one can drive almost anywhere in a light buckboard; there’s 
plenty of food for the horses, plenty of fuel, and plenty, plenty of quail— 






Twenty 


The Land of Bob White 


a slightly smaller and darker bird than the more northerly bob-whites; also, 
there are in many parts plenty of knife-edge palmettoes, thorny cactus, and 
sand burs which will put your dogs out of commission unless you care for 
their feet daily. It may even be necessary to furnish them with light 
leather boots to protect their feet. 

Also, the plain fact is that you’ll probably find more than plenty of snakes 
in some regions, though in the Carolina coast region, despite many tales of 
rattlesnakes and moccasins, I never saw a snake while out shooting. Florida, 
however, is distinctly more so in this respect; and the very absence of cold 
weather, which gives the birds more chance, also gives the ophidians a 
longer season of activity. 

Good stout canvas or leather leggings, or loose, heavy canvas trousers 
tucked into high shoes, are merely a common-sense precaution; and one 
should be a little more careful than usual to include in one’s first-aid kit 
a lancet, medicated gauze, and some sealed distilled water; a hypodermic 
(with a couple of extra points), permanganate of potash; a bottle of 
strychnia sulphate tablets (about one-thirtieth of a grain), to be taken if 
the heart action becomes weak; adhesive tape, a tourniquet, and some silver 
nitrate. 

In case of a bite from one of the very few species of poisonous snakes, 
first of all, fasten on a tourniquet above the point, being very careful to 
loosen the cord occasionally, and then tighten again; next, cut to the bottom 
of the fang wound, and inject, or rub into the wound, permanganate, which 
has the property of oxidizing the poison. If done quickly enough, it is a 
specific. If necessary, cauterize with the silver nitrate, dress the wound, 
and try to get the patient’s mind occupied with something else. The prac¬ 
tice of gulping down all the whiskey one can hold and waiting fearfully for 
signs of the spread of the virus is just a bit more dangerous than the snake- 
poison. 

Another point to be looked out for, as the sportsman extends his range 
southward, is the keeping one’s game fresh. Regardless of legal bag limits, 
no true sportsman kills more than he can use; and it is most exasperating 
to bring back a mess of quail, mentally allotted to various friends, and 
find them so “high” that they must be thrown away. 

Bob White does not spoil in hot weather so quickly as does a wild turkey, 
which must be drawn immediately down there, the crop removed, and the 
abdominal cavity wiped dry and salted (charcoal from the fire, pulverized 
and packed into the bill and the eye sockets, after removing the eyes, or 
wrapped in cloth and stuffed into the fowl, will help) ; but even quail need 
the same preservative treatment during average hunting weather in the 
far South. 

Outfit is a highly individual matter; yet a few points drawn from ex¬ 
perience may not be amiss. 

First, the gun. A 16- or a 20-gauge is better in every way for quail 
than a 12. To be sure, you can kill ’em with a 12 or a 10 either. I had 
an old Long Islander just the other day proudly exhibit a fine ancient 
English four-gauge which he had used on quail and snipe, as well as ducks 
and geese! 



Southern Railway System 


Twenty-one 


But if you like to adapt your implement to the task demanded try the 
smaller gun. In the brush and the tangled swamps, when snap-shots are 
the only shots, it enormously increases one’s chances. Of course, it should 
be a double-barreled hammerless, not a “pump-gun.” 

If you want real satisfaction, have a good gunsmith measure you for 
your weapon as carefully as your tailor measures you for a suit of evening 
clothes. Especially is the amount of “drop” important. Many a despairing 
beginner has begun to catch glimpses of the promised land of the “crack 
shot,” simply by changing to a gun. If you wish to “blow” yourself to 
the fanciest thing procurable, you can have Purdy or one of the other 
famous English gunsmiths build you a marvel of workmanship and engrav¬ 
ing at any price from $500 to $1,500. But you can get an American 
machine-made gun for $40 or $50 that will kill just as many birds and 
which with proper care will serve your son just as well during his shooting 
years. 

The most difficult item of the equipment is the dog—or dogs, rather, for 
two, worked alternately, are absolutely a minimum, if you’re going to 
hunt hard every day for some weeks; and three, or even four, good ones 
are none too many in hard country, if you wish to be sure of topnotch 
sport daily. 

Every man has his ideas about dogs. But one caution applies to all indi¬ 
vidual preferences. Whether you choose pointers, setters, or droppers, pay 
no attention whatever to bench-show records, and give little weight even 
to field-trial performances as compared with actual hunting quality. Real 
pedigrees are just as important as in race-horses, or Jersey cows, or humans. 
But, just as in these also, there are almost as many exceptions to the rules 
as in French verbs. And forget not, even in estimating what they are 
worth, that the art of fiction reaches high summits in the imposing pedigrees 
which accompany bird dogs so plentifully in the professional market. I have 
known a wealthy sportsman, disgusted with his string of fancy-pedigreed 
dogs, to offer at a shooting resort a thousand dollars for a fellow-hunter’s 
young setter which had proved to be a bright and shining star in the field. 

Often a splendid “meat dog” can be picked up very cheaply from the 
stock of unknown ancestry owned and used by some local guide or native; 
but you’ll be lucky if you secure a really good, well-broken setter or pointer 
for $100. 

As to clothes—footwear is, of course, the most important item. “By 
their boots ye shall know them,” an irreverent but keen-eyed veteran used 
to declare. The “hunting boots” disseminated by city shoe stores and 
department-store “sporting goods” sections are only fit to give away as a tip 
to the darkey who brings you firewood. Really waterproof shoes, of flexible 
leather, with soles of something like rawhide, that are light and will bend, 
will save a large percentage of your steam-power—and you’ll need it all 
if you’re really going to hunt quail with enthusiasm. 

Woolen outer garments are out of the question; at the end of an hour 
you’ll be carrying masses of burs worse than those which torture the poor 
long-haired setters. Heavy, brown, cheap canvas is almost the only thing 
which will resist the formidable briar patches and shed burs. You may 
prefer to tuck the bottom of these into your 10-inch high shoes, but short 



Twenty-two 


The Land of Bob White 


canvas leggings fastened with a spiral strap like those used by some branches 
of the army, will do the job better. The one essential thing about the 
coat is that it should have all the pocket-room a coat can carry. 

You’ll need both light and heavy underwear, for one day you may be 
perspiring at noon, and the next an ice-storm may have coated every blade 
of sedge-grass with a casing of ice. A warm sweater and a very heavy and 
very long old overcoat will prove far from amiss during the long drives to 
and from the day’s hunting grounds, for the morning and the evening are 
apt to be most penetratingly “chillsome.” 

One could write a volume on this matter of personal equipment; but the 
novice will have his own convictions and prejudices long before his first 
trip is ended. 

That’s part of the pleasure of the game. 






















Shooting Season in 



November 

Quail in Virginia, North Carolina, (1) South Carolina, Georgia (after 
20th), Florida (after 20th), Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee (after 
15th). 

Turkey in Virginia, North Carolina, (1) South Carolina, (2) Georgia 
(after 20th), Florida (after 20th), Tennessee (3) (after 15th). 

Doves in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia (after 20th), 
Florida (after 20th), Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee. 

Woodcock in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, 
Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee (no open season). 

Ducks, Geese and Brant in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, 
Georgia, Florida (after 20th), Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee. 

December 

Quail in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, 
Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee (until 31st). 

Turkey in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, 
Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee (until 31st). 

Doves in Virginia (until 15th), North Carolina (until 15th), South Car¬ 
olina (until 15th), Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi (until 31st), 
Tennessee (until 15th). 

Woodcock in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, 
Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee (no open season). 

Ducks, Geese and Brant in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, 
Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee. 

January 

Quail in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, 
Alabama, Mississippi. 

Turkey in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, 
Alabama, Mississippi. 

Doves in Georgia, Florida, Alabama. 

Woodcock (Season closes December 31st). 

Ducks, Geese and Brant in Virginia (until 15th), North Carolina, South 
Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee. 

February 

Quail in Virginia (until 1st), North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia 
(until 28th), Florida (until 15th), Alabama (until 28th), Mississippi. 

Turkey in Virginia (until 1st), North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia 
(until 28th), Florida (until 15th), Alabama, Mississippi. 

Doves (Season closed). 

Woodcock (Season closed). 

Ducks, Geese and Brant (Season closed). 


Reference marks: (1) Season opens on Thanksgiving Day. (2) Gob¬ 
blers. (3) Additional season for gobblers, April 1-25. 

M-T 6/21/23. 








Twenty-four 


The Land of Bob White 


ALABAMA 


Name of 
Town 


Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 


Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 


Kinds of 
Game 


Akron. 

Alberta. 

Anniston. 

Bankston. 

Barton. 

Cherokee. 

Courtland. 

De Armanville . . 
Decatur. 

Epes »••••••• 

Eutaw. 

Gadsden . 

Gastonburg . . . . 
Huntsville. 

Jackson . 

Kennedy . 

Larkinsville . . . . 

Lincoln . 

Livingston. 

Madison. 


Ford. 


J. H. Pearce. 

A labama. 

Calhoun. 

Manhattan. 

Mrs. Willie Babker. 
Mrs. Ross Green. 
Smith. 

Mrs. Johnson. 


Deon. 

Colonial. 


J. T. Anderson. 

Lyons. 

Echols. 

Hilda. 

IV. J. IV ill is. 

W heeler. 

Poole. 

King. 

Printup. 

Forrest. 

Mallard. 

T timer. 

Terminal. 

Gastonburg. 

T wickenham. 

McGee. 

Dixie. 

S tegal. 

Oliver. 

C armady. 

Choctaw Inn. 
Kennedy. 

Mrs. S. E. Wilson. 
Mrs. A. G. Harper. 

Lincoln. 

Laniers. 

Allison. 

Livingston. 

Mrs. Gould. 


Madison. 


Ben S. Evans. 

S. J. Hardy. 

A. B. Menafee. 

John Fitzgerald. 

Jno. A. Carter, Jr. 

B. L. Spearman. 

Dr. Frank Weaver. 

T. J. Walden. 

T. C. Smith. 

A. L. Kimbraugh. 

W. C. Holland. 

A. A. Gibbs. 

J. W. Rutland. 

F. P. Hughston. 

D. C. Grant. 

D. C. White. 

Garth Gilchrist. 

T. H. Allen, Oxford,rfd. 
M. S. Applegate. 

Will Wyker. 

Lamar Cartwright. 

Will Giles. 

Herman Whaley. 

Charlie Greenlee. 
Raymond Hylton. 

J. B. Byrd. 

C. M. A. Rogers. 

J. D. Steele. 

II. F. Grubbs. 

E. E. Ferrell. 

Phi. W. Burnett. 

B. J. Maxie. 

Barney Irland. 

Dr. A. W. Ralls. 

Hugh Agricola. 

R. J. Goode. Jr. 

J. L. Holloway. 

D. S. Blackwell. 

Jeff H. Terry. 

R. P. Weeden. 

Lawrence Goldsmith. 

Mr. Nichols, Rockville. 

G. W. Garner, Gainest’n. 
G. W. Hawkins. 

W. C. Jones. 

M. T. Propst. 

W. W. Bridges. 

G. W. Hembree. 

S. Matthews. 

Hal Dickinson. 

W. V. Morgan. 

H. L. Crawford. 

C. B. Nixon, Boyd. 

W. H. Gould. 

T. B. Ernest. 

M. B. Gould. 

E. F. Allison, Bellamy. 

F. A. Finny. 

M. H. Anderson. 

T. B. Bronaugh. 

T. H. Cain. 

R. E. Cain. 

T. T. Ashford. 


Quail, rabbits, ducks, 
turkeys, deer, squir¬ 
rels. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
fox, ducks, deer, geese. 

Ducks, geese, quail. 

Quail. 

Quail, doves, squirrels, 
rabbits. 

Quail, squirrels, ducks. 

Quail, squirrels, ducks, 
wild turkeys, snipe, 
doves, opossum, coon. 

Quail, deer. 

Quail, turkeys, squirrels, 
rabbits, ducks. 

Quail. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Squirrels, turkeys, quail. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits 
and ducks. 

Quail, rabbits and doves. 

Quail, turkeys, deer. 

Birds, squirrels. 


Note. —Hotels in italic. 





























Southern Railway System 


Twenty-five 


ALABAMA—Continued 


Name of 

Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

McDowell. 

American Veneer Co. 

M. C. Flowers. 

H. G. Speed. 

W. W. Acker, Agent. 

Quail, ducks, squirrels, 

deer. 

Millport. 

Millport. 

W. W. Waldrop. 

W. M. Windham. 

J. G. Prater. 

L. F. Wilson. 

T. C. Chandler. 

Quail. 

Mobile. 

Battle. 

Bienville. 

Cawthon. 

Savage. , 

St. Andrew. 

Mobile Sporting Goods 
Company. 

Ducks, quail, squirrels, 
doves, turkeys, deer, 
black bear. 

Muscadine. 

A. J. Harris. 

M. W. Dodd. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Paint Rock .... 

Keel. 

J. E. Jones. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Pell City. 

Cernet. 

T. S. Cole. 

Mrs. W. W. Zellner. 
Mrs. To. Butler. 

A. R. Thomas. 

J. V. Davis. 

Quail. 

Riverside. 

G. M. Howell’s Clul 

C. Cunningham. 

Quail, squirrels, ducks, 

rabbits. 

Satsuma. 

Satsuma. 

None. 

Quaih doves, ducks and 

squirrels. 

Selma. 

Albert. 

Arcadia. 

E. D. Parrott. 

E. P. Dawson. 

Quail, ducks, doves, 

snipe and squirrels. 

Talladega. 

Central. 

Purefoy. 

Mrs. S'. A. Austin. 
Demotis. 

\. J. Hilton. 

Tulian Elliott. 

James Hicks. 

Frank Lanier. 

Quail, squirrels, turkeys, 
doves. 

Tuscaloosa. 

Me Lester. 

Burchfield. 

B. Harwood. 

J. D. McQueen. 

T. A. Ambrose. 

Quail, ducks. 

Tuscumbia. 

Beach. 

Mrs. Frank Scruggs. 

Taylor Bodkin. 

T. E. Isbell. 

T. R. Jones. 

W. W. White. 

Quail, geese, ducks, deer. 


Note.—H otels in italic. 


FLORIDA 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Genoa . 

Mrs. J. W. Mullis. 

J. A. Corbett. 

F. P. Cason. 

T. G. Black. 

Quail, doves and squir¬ 
rels. 

Jasper . 

Osceola. 

Mrs. Lora Hunter. 

W. A. Fennell. 

A. Buckels. 

C. C. Buckels. 

Quail, doves, turkeys 
and deer. 

Lake Butler .... 

Edgar. 

Miller. 

Mrs. Mattie Markey. 
Mrs. Onie Pons. 

T. M. Hewitt. 

A. C. Cone. 

Joe Hill Williams. 

Quail, doves. 

Palatka. 

James. 

Martin. 

Kupperbusch. 

Saratoga. 

Howell. 

Putnam County Rod and 
Gun Club. 

Quail, ducks, doves, tur¬ 
keys, deer, squirrels, 
bear, lynx, wildcats, 
catamounts. 


For additional information in regard to Florida please communicate with Mr. G. R. Pettit, 
Division Passenger Agent, 241 West Forsyth St., Jacksonville, Florida. 


Note. —Hotels in italic. 













































Twenty-six 


The Land of Bob White 


GEORGIA 


Name of 
Town 


Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 


Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 


Kinds of 
Game 


Adel . 


Hester. 

Mrs. S. A. Juhan. 


Alto. 

Aragon. 

Austell. 


G. W. Grant. 
A ragon. 

Lithia Springs. 


Bremen . 

Cecil . . 
Cohutta . 


Harolson. 

Mrs. W. G. Atwell. 
Byrd. 

Morgan. 


Cornelia . 


Cordele 
Dalton . 


Duluth . 


Commercial. 

Stovall. 

Loudermilk. 

Wikle. 

Suwanee. 

Commercial. 

Dalton. 

Horan. 

Shells. 

Mrs. D. E. Flowers. 


Elko . 


Clark. 


Flowery Branch. . 


Canning. 


Griffin . . 
Hartwell . 
Hazlehurst 


Howell. 


Griffin. 

Hartwell. 

Imperial. 

Pierce. 

Browning. 

Mrs. G. A. Heath. 
G. W. Dougharty. 


Luella. 

McDonough . . 

Maysville . . . . 


M. F. Harrison. 
Brown. 

Mrs. W. A. War 
Rogers. 


d. 


Norcross 


Brunswick. 
Wright's Cafe. 


Pinehurst . 


D. G. Quattlebaum. 


Plainville 
Roberta . 


Rome 


Saint George . . . 


C timer. 

Harris. 

Mrs. W. E. Champion 
Mrs. K. P. Lowr. 
Mrs. J. S. Sondifur. 
General Forrest. 

Third Avenue. 
Armstrong. 

E. J. Clark. 


S. J. Harwell. 

J. W. Wells. 

R. M. Scandrett. 

I. P. Shepard. 

E. M. Rogers. 

C. V. Wiebanks. 
Carter Parris. 

Jes. Westmoreland. 

E. E. Yarbrough. 

C. D. Rutherford. 
None. 

None. 

J. C. Pease. 

F. V. Armstrong. 
H. H. Bridges. 

Dr. W. H. Jarrel. 
Andrew Purdy. 


None. 

H. J. Smith. 

P. B. Fite. 

C. E. Strickland. 
T. C Bagwell, 
j. H. Clark. 

J. D. Grace. 

Tack Hodge. 

Nick Buff. 

Jeff Woodliff. 
Earl Roark. 

Lee S. Trimble. 
J. G. Craft. 

Tack Wilcox. 

J. J. Oquinn. 


G. W. Daugharty. 
E. F. Herrin. 
John Hughs. 

V. G. Turner. 

W. H. Bailey. 

Geo. Alexander. 
Eum Turner. 
Teptha Pullen. 
Thos. K. Miller. 
George Sheridan. 
Pollock Pounds. 
Will Cheek. 

Frank Robinson. 
Ollie Simpson. 
Terrell Bolton. 
Tom Rochester. 
W. A. Leaptroh. 
Dudley Johnson. 
None. 

A. E. Whittle. 

R. C. Le Senur. 
Geo. Miller. 

R. A. Bankston. 
Leo. F. Hackett. 
Wm. Wyatt. 

J. H. Oneill, Jr. 
E.J. Clark. 

J. C. Boughner. 


Quail, doves. 


Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 
Quail. 

Quail, rabbits, ducks. 


Quail. 

Quail. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 


Quail, doves. 

Quail, doves, rabbits and 
squirrels. 

Quail, rabbits, ducks. 

Quail, doves, ducks, tur- 

~ keys, squirrels, coon, 
opossum, fox, rabbits, 
wildcats. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Quail, doves. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 


Quail, doves, squirrels. 

Doves, quail. 

Quail, doves. 

Quail. 


Quail, doves, rabbits and 
squirrels. 


Quail. 

Squirrels, rabbits, quail. 
Doves, quail, ducks. 


Quail, squirrels. 
Quail,deer. 


Note.—H otels in italic. 









































Southern Railway System 


Twenty-seven 


GEORGIA—Continued 


1 

Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Savannah . 

De Soto. Geiger. 

Savannah. Chatham. 

John Wesley. Hicks. 

Martinique. Tybee. 

Pulaski. Seebreese. 

Ocean View. 

A. M. Barbee & Son. 

(Isle of Hope). 

Banon Hodge, Thunder¬ 
bolt. 

E. B. Izlar, Tybee. 
Savannah Gun Club. 

Quail, ducks, deer. 

Sparks . 

Sparks. 

McCravil 

B. W. Whitehurst. 

D. McPhaul. 

J. G. Wainwright. 

N. D. Sinclair. 

Quail, ducks, doves. 

Suwanee. 

Rhodes. 

M. B. Verner. 

H. B. Rhodes. 

W. I. Wilson. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Tifton. 

Myron. 

Geo. War ren. 

J. W. Myers. 

Quail. 

Toccoa. 

Albemarle. 

Swift. 

Toccoa Lodge. 

Tabor. 

H. J. Busha. 

Geo. Busha. 

C. Hicks. 

Quail, doves. 

Vienna. 

Virginia. Vienna. 

Wood. Smith. 

E. L. Woodward. 

J. P. Heard. 

T. G. North. 

B. P. Robertson. 

Quail, ducks, squirrels. 

Villa Rica. 

Tyson. 

Jonas Wilson. 

W. B. Candler. 

T. M. Moore. 

Quail. 

Woolsey. 

Mrs. D. T. Wilder. 

M. G. Sams. 

J. H. Tarpley. 

C. T. Woolsey, Agent. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
opossum. 

Zebulon . 

Howard. 

Owen Heights. 

W. M. Marsh. 

D. S. Barrett. 

E. W. Howell. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
doves. 


KENTUCKY 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Burnside .... 

Seven Gables. 

Ramsey. 

Kerns. 

Moody. 

Monticello. 

V. R. Southwood. 

Harry Wait. 

Harry Burgess. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Corinth. 

Marshall. 

T rimnell. 

Mrs. Justin Davis. 

F. B. Craig. 

Wm. Jones. 

Harry Hutcherson. 

R. E. True. 

Rabbits, quail. 

Eawrenceburg . . . 

Lawrenceburg. 

Morris. 

Stevens. 

Hahns. 

None. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
snipe. 

Eexington. 

Phoenix. 

La Fayette. 

None. 

Quail, doves—very few. 

Eudlow. 

Walls. 

T. W. Balsley. 

Rabbits, quail, squirrels. 

McKinney. 

Wakandah Mineral 
Springs. 

Elixir Mineral Springs. 

W. J. Duncan. 

W. D. Goode. 

Quail. 

Wilmore. 

McKinney. 

Sallee. 

Yellow Poppy Tea. 

G. C. Watson. 

C. W. Mitchell. 

E. K. Pickett. 

Claud Guvn. 

T. W. Coliins. 

W. K. Curd. 

Rabbits, squirrels, quail, 
doves. 


Note. —Hotels in italic. 








































Twenty-eight 


The Land of Bob White 


LOUISIANA 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Public Preserve* 

Sleeping quarters on 
premises. 

Guides on premises. 

Ducks and geese. 

Slidell. 

Commercial. 

Eugene Hickman. 

Rabbits, squirrels, ducks, 

A cme. 

R. W. House. 

doves, deer, quail and 


Solmen. 

Mrs. R. J. Taylor. 

W. Windolph. 

T. Koepp. 

C. A. Everitt. 

A. E. Carr. 

snipe. 


* This Public Preserve is located near the mouth of the Mississippi River, about ioo miles 
from New Orleans, and is reached by the New Orleans & Lower Coast Railroad to Buras, La., 
thence by motor boat. Guides, hunting boats, and sleeping quarters on premises. Non¬ 
residence hunting license, $15.00. For reservations, apply to Louisiana Conservation Commis¬ 
sion, New Orleans, La. 


MISSISSIPPI 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Carriere. 

Mrs. L. Locke. 

None. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Corinth. 

Waldron. 

Cox. 

Thomas Johnson. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Ellisville. 

A lice. 

None. 

Ouail. 

Hattiesburg . . . . 

Hattiesburg. 

Mitchell. 

Schambers. 

Robinson. 

W alters’. 

I. V. Austin. 

P. M. Golden. 

Earl B. King. 

Ellis Hickman. 

H. S. Hagerty. 

Quail, doves, squirrels. 

Iuka. 

Leatherwood. 

Mineral Springs. 

Dr. J. R. Brown. 

C. D. Adams. 

Quail. 

Laurel. 

Pinehurst. 

Edwin. 

W. L. Patrick. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
coon, opossum, mink. 

Meridian. 

Great Southern. 
Meridiati. 

Union. 

Royal. 

Cameron. 

Tom Hopkins. 

Nat Washburn. 

Sebe Coleman. 

W. W. Wilder. 

Quail, squirrels, turkeys. 

Picayune. 

Park. 

Southern. 

Morris Stockstill. 

J. C. Jones. 

W. O. Bilbo. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Purvis. 

Southern. 

Central. 

Mrs. W. B. Calhoun. 

W. J. Boone. 

Joe Cain. 

Quail. 

Wenasoga. 

No hotels. Board. 

R. V. Ketcham. 

Henry Haynes. 

Quail, squirrels. 


Note. —Hotels in italic. 






































Southern Railway System 


Twenty-nine 


NORTH CAROLINA 


Name of 

Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Ararat . 

None. 

W. 0. BryantT 

W. P. Armstrong. 

Asheboro . 

Ashlyn. Central. 

W. W. Lindley. 


Old Hickory Cafe. 

C. S. Ridge. 


Hasty Cafe. 

C. Rush. 

Balfour. 

Mrs. E. A. Spence. 

W. H. Powell. 

Robert Odom. 

Barber. 

Pine Croft Lodge. 

J. G. Chandler. 

Black Mountain .. 

Monte Vista. 

Black Mountain Rod and 


Kerlee(The Orchards). 

Gun Club. 


Gresham. 

G. E. Kerlee. 

Nat. H. Walker. 

Bonlee. 

Bonlee Hunting Club 

M. B. Murrow. 

Boonville. 

Angell. Hendrix 

Dr. T. W. Share. 

Arnie Share. 

Brevard. 

Aethelwold. 

C. E. Orr. 


Appalachian. 

J. E. Clayton. 


Votes. 

Jim Neely. 


Clayton. 

John Cantrell. 


Henning. 

W. D. Glazener. 

Bridgewater .... 

Mrs. J. R. Rust. 

C. D. Hemphill. 


C. D. Hemphill. 

Wallace Elder. 

G. S. Coulter. 

Bryson City .... 

Entella. Frimont 

J. A. Dowtin. 


IVestdale. Freeman 

Dr. D. R. Bryson. 

Burlington. 

Cooper. 

Horace Kephart. 

Tudge T. D. Bryson. 

Piedmont. 

Burlington Chamber of 


Ward. 

Travelers. 

Commerce. 

Chapel Hill. 

Pickard. 

Chas. T. Woolen. 

Clemmons. 

Make headquarters a 

A. B. Harper. 


Winston-Salem. 

W. C. Cornish. 

Cleveland. 

Chenault 

Chandler R. F. D 
Barber, N. C. 

J. G. Chandler & Sons. 

Clyde . 

Clyde. 

T. H. Smathers. 

Mrs. H. Carstarphen. 

Walter Smather. 

Claude Jones. 

Cooleemee . 

River Side. 

Clarence Bost. 

Cumnock . 

Mrs. M. D. Stewart. 

S. E. Adcock. 

J. L. Adcock. 

Dallas . 

T. H. White. 

T. H. White. 


Mrs. C. E. Lineberger. 

T. D. Derr. 

T. W. Summey. 

Dillsboro . 

Jarrett Springs. 

R. F. Jarrett. 

Capt. A. H. Weaver. 

Elkin . 

Myrtle. 

Riverside. 

G. A. Feltz. 

Forest City . 

M oore’s. 

C. C. Moore. 

Croivell. 

Mrs. Beulah Moore. 

Dr. R. E. Reinhardt. 

Germanton . 

Mrs. A. G. Vaughn. 

R. T. Beck. 

C. C. McGee. 

Gold Hill . 

Mrs. W. E. Strane. 

C. G. Peeles. 

Goldston . 

C. W. Elkins. 

Tames Goldston. 

W. W. Fields, Pittsboro. 

Goldsboro . 

Kennon. Terminal. 

Commercial. 

None. 

Granite Falls . . . 

Mrs. C. Rosenberger. 

P. G. Moore. 


Mrs. R. E. Deal. 

E. T. Sharp. 


Mrs. C. G. Houck. 

C. G. Moore. 

Dr. A. D. Abernethy. 

Granite Quarry . . 

James Henderson. 

C. F. Brown. 

E. J. Kluttz. 

T. B.McCombs. 

E. E. Eyerly. 


Kinds of 
Game 


Quail. 

Quail, rabbits. 


Quail, rabbits, ducks. 
Quail. 

Rabbits, squirrels, quail, 
pheasants. 

Quail. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Deer, quail, pheasants, 
squirrels. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
opossum. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 

turkeys, bear. 

Quail. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 
Quail, rabbits. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Quail, turkeys and fox. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 
Quail, squirrels, turkeys. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 
Quail. 

Quail. 

Rabbits, quail. 

Quail. 

Quail. 

Quail. 

Quail. 


Rabbits, opossum. 


Not*. —Hotels in italic. 








































Thirty 


The Land of Bob White 


NORTH CAROLINA—Continued 


Name of 

Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Greensboro . 

O’Henry. Rhodes. 

Guilford. Huffine. 

New Carolina. Clegg. 

H. T. Ireland. 

Thos. C. Hunt. 

Quail, rabbits, turkeys. 

Gulf. 

McRae. 

Mrs. John McRae. 

Jno. M. Mclver. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
deer. 

Harrisburg .... 

W. Ed. Harris. 

Harry Taylor. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 

T. W. Taylor. 

Buford Barbee. 

opossum. 

High Point .... 

Sheraton. 

New Elwood. 

Eugene Parish. 

B. F. English. 

M. A. English. 

Quail, rabbits, woodcock. 

High Shoals . . . 

High Shoals. 

T. C. Cloninger. 

Rabbits, quail. 

Hillgirt. 

Stony Mountain. 
Simree. 

Dunlap. 

T. 0. Dermid. 

Claude Dermid. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Hillsboro. 

Cole. 

W rig lit. 

0. L. Thomas. 

C. D. Turner. 

C. H. Robertson. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Hominy . 

Dr. A. P. Willis. 

Torn Sawyers. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Horse Shoe . 

Maplehurst. 

A. L. & L. E. Davenport. 

Quail. 

Hudson. 

Mrs. Lingle. 

Mrs. Moore. 

Ira Justice. 

Quail, doves, squirrels, 
rabbits. 

Lake Toxaway . 

D. Gillespie. 

F. Y. Wilbanks. 

D. Gillespie. 

Birds, squirrels. 

Lenoir . 

Carlheim. 

Martin. 

Pink Healand. 

Quail. 

Lincolnton . . . 

North State. 
McCutcheon. 

Lincoln Lithia. 
Inverness. 

Mrs. Heavener. 

C. V. Tilson. 

T. L. Thompson. 

M. H. Cline. 

Tom Cansler. 

Burt Barlow. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Madison. 

New Jones. 

Knight. 

Mrs. W. C. Jones. 

Mrs. B. F. Reynolds. 

Sam H. Price. 

C. C. Cardwell. 

J. C. Thompson. 

Quail, ducks, rabbits. 

Maiden. 

Rudisill. 

John A. Williams. 

Frank Sigmon. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Marion. 

Smith. Mariana 

Flemming. 

T. M. Finley. 

Dan Kanipe. 

Toe Parker. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Marshall. 

French Broaa. 
Montezuma. Rector 

R. R. Ramsey. 

W. A. West. 

Squirrels, rabbits, quail. 

Milton. 

Milton. 

J. C. Bryant. 

Quail, turkeys. 

Morganton. 

Caldwell. Morgan 

Burkemont. Southern 

Charley Conley. 

McD. Walton. 

Quail. 

Newell. 

Hoods. 

J. A. Newell. 

W. B. Newell. 

W. W. Newell. 

Birds, rabbits. 

Newton. 

Virginia Shipp. 

St. Hubert. Piedmont 

A. O. Yount. 

Quail. 

Norwood. 

Gresham. 

Tyison. 

D. N. Bennett. 

Jacob Edwards. 

Killis Almond. 

E. V. Byrd. 

Quail, rabbits, ducks. 

Ore Hill. 

Mrs. P. M. Harden. 
Mt. Vernon Springs. 

J. M. Foust, Jr. 

R. L. Edwards. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Patterson Springs. 

Cleveland Springs. 
College. 

Courtvine. Central. 

L. H. Patterson. 

R. D. Hopper. 

Quail, ducks, rabbits. 

Pilot Mountain . 

Marion. Harrell. 

Kirkman. 

Mrs. Reid. 

S. L. Haymore. 

Rabbits, quail. 

Pine Level .... 

J. L. Braswell. 

J. L. Braswell. 

D. T. Oliver. 

Quail, ducks. 

Ramseur. 

Ramseur. 

Dr. C. A. Graham. 

Ouail, rabbits, squirrels, 


D. E. Highfill. 

Mrs. Hartley Allred. 

N. R. Curtis. 

R. B. Moffitt. 

L. W. Vickory. 

opossum. 


Note.—H otels in italic. 


































Southern Railway System 


Thirty-one 


NORTH CAROLINA—Continued 


Name of 

Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Randleman. 

Mrs. Ethel Millikan. 

J. F. Routh. 

A. S. Barker. 

Quail. 

Reidsville. 

Belvedere. Piedmont. 

Pat Rankin. 

Quail, turkeys, rabbits, 


Way Side Inn. 

Mrs. Trent. 

Mrs. Porter. 

C. H. Pettigrew. 

J. A. Pettigrew. 

John Clark. 

squirrels, ducks. 

Rhodhiss. 

Sims. 

Houcks. 

E. E. Teague. 

H. Ballengee. 

Quail. 

Richfield. 

Mrs. Floyd. 

None. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Ridgecrest. 

Mrs. S. B. Moore. 

H. B. Cronen. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Mrs. Cora Lee. 

G. H. Holman. 

Paul Harris. 

Gene Moore. 

pheasants, bear, fox, 
turkeys, wildcats 

Rosman. 

Rosman. 

H. P. Whitmire. 

A. 0 . Kitchen. 

Quail, squirrels, turkeys 

deer, pheasants. 

Saluda. 

Charles. Melrose. 

Esseola. Pace. 

The Oaks. Fairview. 

Crystal Springs. 

Bale Pace. 

Quail. 

Sanford . 

Sanford. Maywood. 
Tullock. Manners. 

None. 

Quail, squirrels, turkeys 
fox. 

Semora. 

Mrs. J. H. McAden. 

T. M. Allen. 

T. M. Allen. 

T. G. Hunt. 

W. L. Taylor. 

Quail, turkeys. 

Shelby. 

Siler City. 

Cleveland Springs. 
Central. College. 

Davis. Court View. 

Hadlew 

A. W. McMurry, Jr. 

J. H. Carroll. 

Quail. 

Mrs. Jennie Edwards 

J. Q. Seawell. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits 


Mrs. J. N. Johnson. 

T. G.Lane. 

C. F. Fox. 

Jim Fox. 

M. M. Fox. 

T. G. Lane. 

C. F. Fox. 

turkeys. 

Sophia. 

Clarkson. York. 

D. R. Buella. 

Charles Farlow. 

B. T. Whitehead. 

Quail, squirrels. 

Staley. 

Mrs. Maggie Foushee 
Mrs. Dr. Williams. 

R. L. Cooper. 

Ralph Edwards. 

C. M. Staley. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Stem •••••••• 

N. L. Clements. 
Whitaker. 

W. H. Whitaker. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Stovall. 

White. 

C. T. Hester. 

Quail, opossum, rabbits 
squirrels. 

Swannanoa . . . . 

Stanton. 

Leroy Case. 

Quail and other sma 


Riverby Place. 

Chestnut Hill. 

Henry Davidson. 

game. 

Sylva. 

Cozvard. 

Sylva. 

Jack Morris. 

F. L. Hooper. 

T. H. Morris. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels 

Valdese. 

J. M. Brinkley. 

J. R. Benfield. 

Tohn Long. 

T. Garron 

J. C. Berry. 

Louis Bowmans. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Walnut Cove . . 

Dodson. 

Rierson. 

Brodie. 

Paul W. Davis. 

Jacob Fulton. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Waynesville . . . 

Kenmore. 

Suyeta Park. 

W. L. Hardin. 

C. S. Smathers. 

W. T. Campbell. 

i Bear, deer, quail. 

Wilson Mills . . 

. C. R. Tomlinson. 

C. R. Tomlinson. 

T. W. Tomlinson. 

Quail, rabbits. 


Note. —Hotels in italic. 

















































T hirty-t<ivo 


The Land of Bob White 


SOUTH CAROLINA 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Abbeville. 

Eureka. 

W. F. Hodges. 

B. F. Swetenberg. 

J. D. Sanders. 

Quail. 

Aiken. 

Aiken. Aiken Inn. 

Highland Park. 

Mrs. Albergotte. 

R. G. Tarrant. 

F. K. Hendrix. 

W. L. Thorpe. 

S. G. Page. 

Ab. Reynolds. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Allendale. 

Gildare. 

Cleveland. 

Cross. 

Goodson. 

R. B. Vance. 

C. H. Oswald. 

W. I. Johns. 

H. R. Erwin. 

Deer, quail, squirrels, 
ducks, coons, rabbits, 
alligators. 

Batesburg .... 

Batesburg. 

Commercial. 

None. 

Very little hunting. 

Belton. 

Belton. 

Ross Mitchell. 

Quail. 

Barnwell .... 

Diamond. Malair 

Barnwell Inn. 

Circle Inn. 

Angus Patterson. 

J. S. Still. 

Seymore Owens. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
doves. 

Camden. 

Kirkwood. 

Court Inn. 

Hobkirk. 

Camden. 

Commercial. 

Park View Inn. 

Chamber of Commerce. 

H. G. Carrison, Jr. 

C. J. Shannon, Jr. 

M. L. Smith. 

H. L. Schlosburg. 

R. B. Pitts. 

Quail, ducks, geese, 

squirrels, deer, tur¬ 
keys, rabbits, doves. 

Central. 

Railroad eating house 

None. 

Rabbits, squirrels, birds. 

Chappells. 

J. W. Stewart. 

Jas. M. Keith. 

E. Allen. 

Rabbits, quail, squirrels. 

Charleston. 

New Charleston. 

Argyle. St. John’s 

Timrod Inn. 

Francis Marion. 

None. 

Ducks. 

Clover . 

Matthews. 

Youngblood. 

McLain. 

Dr. I. J. Campbell. 

Dr. M. B. Neill. 

J. Meek Smith. 

W. B. Rudisill. 

T. C. Ford. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Donalds. 

Milford. 

T. T. Johnson. 

R. D. Brownlee. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
doves. 

Dorchester. 

None. 

E. J. Wharton. 

I. S. Hutto. 

A. S. Coburn. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
doves, opossum, fox. 

Edgefield. 

Dixie Highway. 
Edmunds. 

M. B. Tucker. 

N. G. Evans. 

S. M. Smith. 

H. C. Mitchell. 

Quail. 

Elko. 

Mrs. W. H. Wooley. 

P. S. Green. 

Quail. 

Fort Mill. 

Park. 

Kimbrell. 

Harris. 

L. A. Harris. 

J. M. Harris. 

J. C. Potts. 

Rabbits, squirrels, quail. 

Gaffney . 

Carroll. Commercial 

Mrs. A. R. N. Folger. 
Mrs. Thos. Hester. 

Mrs. J. G. Benson. 

C. C. Kirby. 

D. B. Wood. 

W. A. Hafner. 

W. C. Thompson. 

Rabbits, quail, squirrels, 
opossum. 

Gramling. 

None. 

R. M. Gramlin. 

Rabbits, birds, opossum. 
Ducks, rabbits, quail and 
doves. 

Graniteville . . . . 

Graniteville. 

None. 

Greer. 

Greer. 

Smith. 

E. S. Keller. 

W. M. Miller. 

Quail. 

Hardeeville . . . . 

Mrs. Williams. 

W. D. Floyd. 

Quail, ducks, deer and 
turkeys. 

Honea Path . . . . 

Ina. 

Madden. 

Al. Stepp. 

Quail. 

Lancaster. 

Royal. 

Dr. J. E. Rutledge. 

Quail. 

Landrum. 

Imperial. Bishop. 

The Commercial Club. 

Quail. 

McConnells . . . . 

None. 

W. R. Harper. 

J. M. Sardifer. 

J. P. Williams. 

Rabbits, quail. 


Note.—H otels in italic. 



































Southern Railway System 


Thirty-three 


SOUTH CAROLINA—Continued 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Monetta. 

Jordan Inn. 

Gantt. 

Jno. R. Jordan. 

C. W. Story. 

Leon Cato. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
doves. 

Ninety Six. 

Ninety Six. 

S. M. Cooper. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Peak. 

J. E- Epting. 

None. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Pendleton. 

Hunter. 

Harris Hall. 

M. M. Hunter. 

Chamber of Commerce. 

R. C. Harris. 

T. R. McCrary. 

J. B. A. Mullally. 

Ducks, quail. 

Pineland. 

Pineland Club. 

A. J. Torthie. 

J. H. McKenzie. 

C. W. Horton. 

Deer, turkeys, quail. 

Ridge Springs . . . 

Sawyer. 

W. P. Sawyer. 

J. W. Jones. 

Rabbits, quail, squirrels, 
ducks. 

Ridgeville. 

C. S. Kingman. 

C. C. Strobel. 

T. B. Taylor. 

G. W. Way. 

Dr. R. V. Ackerman. 

W. B. Bruming. 

Quail, doves. 

Ridgeway. 

Ridgeway Hotel. 

Louis Mickle. 

Quail, doves, opossum, 
coon, rabbits. 

St. George. 

Hartzog. 

G. F. Porter. 

Quail. 

St. Matthews . . . 

Calhoun. 

Chas. L. Puckett. 

Ouail, squirrels. 

Seivern. 

M. S. Gunter. 

None. 

Ouail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Summerville .... 

Pine Forest Inn. 
Carolina. 

The Squirrel Inn. 

The Postern. 

H. P. Miles. 

Deer, quail, ducks, fox, 
opossum, coon, rabbits 
and squirrels. 

Tillman. 

i 

A. N. Ellis. 

M. W. Floyd. 

L. O. Browning. 

C. H. Fleming. 

Quail, deer, turkeys. 

Walhalla. 

Alexander. 

Busch. 

Phillips. 

Mrs. E. Puckhaber. 

Jack T. Darby. 

T. D. Verner. 

J. W. Bell. 

S. L. Verner. 

W. L. Sanders. 

J. C. Neville. 

Quail, fox, deer. 

West Union .... 

None. 

J. H. Darby. 

Quail. 

York. 

Shandon. 

None. 

Quail, rabbits. 


Note.—H otels in italic. 

























Thirty-four 


The Land of Bob White 


TENNESSEE 


Name of 

Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Afton. 

E. A. Hayworth. 

C. T. Southerland. 

Quail. 

Bluff City. 

Bluff City Inn. 

W. C. Carrier. 

J. W. Denny. 

R. B. Bachman. 

Quail. 

Bristol. 

Bristol. 

T enneva. 

Virginia. 

F. M. Shelton. 

E. C. Blackley. 

Chas. Swan. 

Robert Blackley. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Bulls Gap. 

G illey. 

Mrs. W. F. Addington. 

W. T. Cox. 

J. B. Mitchell. 

T. N. Doud. 

Quail. 

Calderwood .... 

Ragle. 

E. H. Holt. 

T. R. Rider. 

P. P. Campbell. 

Bear, quail, turkeys, 

deer and small game. 

Church Hill .... 

R. L. Long. 

D. B. Hunt. 

J. R. Lane. 

T. H. Britten. 

Quail, ducks. 

Clinton. 

Park. Brown 

Hensley. 

W. B. Disney. 

G. W. Disney. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Collierville. 

Collierville Inn. 
McGinnis. 

T. M. Glenn. 

Dr. T. C. Parr. 

Quail, fox. 

Concord . 

No hotel. Boarding. 

E. C. Shell. 

W. B. McClellan. 

L. D. Hobbs. 

Quail, rabbits, opossum, 
ducks. 

Corryton. 

S. G. Warwick. 

T. C. Warwick. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 


Chas. T. McClellan. 

Tames Zachory. 

doves. 

Coryville. 

Mrs. D. I. Sharp. 

Will F. Sharp. 

Leonard Cross. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Cumberland Gap . 

Pinnacle. 

T. T. Rockwell. 

Rabbits, squirrels, quail. 


R. F. Carr. 

Geo. Stegall. 

Russell Berkau. 

P. H. Branson. 

B. L. O’Dell. 

Fred Moore. 

pheasants, turkeys and 

bear. 

Dayton. 

Aqua. Dayton 

George D. Barnes. 

Quail, ducks, rabbits and 


Mineral Springs. 

Mrs. Kate Boyd. 

B. M. Wilber. 

C. E. Parham. 

squirrels. 

EHzabethton 

Lynwood. 

None. 

Quail. 

Elk Valley ..... 

T. S. Gibson. 

B. B. Brown. 

Squirrels, rabbits, quail, 

M. Terry. 

Chas. Meredith. 

Geo. Thomas. 

turkeys, fox. 

Grand Tunctinn 

Three small hotels. 

None. 

Quail. 

Graysville. 

Harriman. 

T. J. Green. 

C. C. Russell. 

Rabbits, quail. 

Harriman. 

C. 0 . Harris. 

Quail scarce; rabbits 

Cumberland. 

Langhorne. 


plentiful. 

Heiskell . 

None. 

S. J. Messamore. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Hunter. 

Lewis. 

Dr. T. C. Bowers. 

Bear, fox, squirrels and 


Joe Lewis. 

Andy Nideffer. 

Grant Collins. 

quail. 

Lancing. 

Carr. Scott’s 

None. 

Rabbits, quail, turkeys. 

Lenoir City . . . . 

Lenoir Inn. Lacy. 

Ledbetter. 

Mrs. Laura CooW. 

None. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Memphis. 

Chisca. Gayoso. 

Peabody. 

None. 

Ducks, geese, quail. 

Middleton. 

L. H. Gunn. 

None. 

Quail. 

Midway. 

S. J. Maloney. 

A. T. Hogan. 

D. E. Crockett. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Moscow. 

Guy. Burnett. 

Fleming. 

T. H. Baldwin. 

Dr. J. M. Steverson. 

L. Ferquin. 

Quail. 

Mosheim. 

R. T. Moore. 

Chas. H. Goodwin. 

Porter Conaway. 

N. F. Myer. 

Quail, rabbits. 


Note. —Hotels in italic. 










































Southern Railway System 


Thirty-five 


TENNESSEE—Continued 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Olive Springs . . . 

Taylor. 

A. L. Williams. 


J. A. McKinney. 

H. F. Sunknecal. 

T. C. Smith. 

Philadelphia .... 

None. 

C. F. Thompson. 

Will Cody Byrum. 

Pocahontas .... 

Smith. 

C. H. Carr. 

W. G. Joyner. 

Dan Wright. 

Whit. Nelms. 

Rockwood. 

Mourfield. Grand. 

W. M. Fasminger. 


Anderson. 

Harry Howard. 


Cooper. 

Sharp. 

W. T. Lankford. 

Rogers Spring . . . 

Mrs. John Luttinon. 

Robt. Callahan & Sons. 

Mrs. Lizzie Lockhart. 

Walter Foster. 


Robert Callahan. 

W. T. Munn. 

James Shelly. 

Rogersville. 

Hale Springs. 

O. B. Bynum. 

Kyle. 

Dr. J. S. Lyons. 

Rutledge. 

Dr. J. H. Campbell. 

J. J. Moody. 

William Rich, Noeton. 

Shouns . 

Mrs. Mattie Chafee. . . 

Bob Goins. 

Somerville. 

Bryson. Starks. 

Wm. Mays. 


Boswell. Beale. 

H. P. Hobson. 

W. C. Latta. 

G. W. Farrar. 

Spring City . . . . 

Spring City. 

W. P. McDonald. 

C. Wasson, Rhea Spring 
Dr. 0 . R. Tomlinson. 

Clem Tomlinson. 

Tate Station . . . . 

Tate Springs. 

Tazewell. 

Cherokee. 

Chas. Shell. 


Shell. 

Dr. F. J. McDaniel. 

Dr. M. B. Carr. 

Tno. P. Davis. 

I. N. Mink. 

Watauga. 

Mrs. W. B. Reynolds. 

C. W. Ray. 

L. Dempsey. 

F. W. Farmer. 

J. C. Dempsey. 

White Pine . . . . 

Southern. 

John Harris. 

Mrs. Julia Fry. 

J. W. Woods. 

Williston. 

Frau Crawford. 

None. 


Kinds of 
Game 


Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
night game. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
ducks. 


Quail, ducks, turkeys 
and rabbits. 


Quail. 


Quail. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Quail, rabbits. 
Quail. 

Quail, squirrels. 
Quail, rabbits. 
Quail, rabbits. 


Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
pheasants, woodchuck. 


Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
ducks, geese. 

Quail, raboits, squirrels. 


Note.—H otels in italic. 



























T hirty-six 


The Land of Bob White 


VIRGINIA 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 

Kinds of 

Game 

Amelia. 

Amelia. 

Geo. W. Newman. 

Ouail, rabbits. 

Amherst. 

Mountain View Inn. 
The Oaks. 

Mrs. H. C. Loving. 
Mrs. M. H. Robertson. 
Mrs. C. L. Scott, Sr. 

None. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Benhams . 

None. 

None. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Brandy . 

Brown. 

J. W. Bowen, Jr. 

C. A. Humphries. 

K. R. Abbott. 

Quail, rabbits, turkeys. 

Bristow. 

St. Benedict’s Convent. 

None. 

Ouail, rabbits, turkeys. 

Broadway. 

Buffalo L i t h i a 

Viginia Inn. 

Arlington. 

W. B. Minnick. 

Cooper Bennett. 

W. C. Nicewarner. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Springs . 

J. E. Sizemon. 

W. H. Blanks. 

Quail, turkeys, squirrels, 
rabbits. 

Burkeville. 

Burkeville. 

Mrs. J. E. Anderson. 

H. W. Hundley. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Burnleys. 

Mrs. W. E. Mundy. 
Mrs. W. M. Johns. 
Mrs. J. J. Edwards. 
Mrs. W. A. Marshall. 

W. C. Douglas. 

H. M. Edwards. 

J. J. Edwards. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Charlottesville . . . 

New Gleason. 

Colonial. 

Queen Charlotte. 

U niversity. 

Dolly Madison. 

Melton Jones. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Chase City. 

Gregory. 

Mrs. P. H. Jackson. 
Mrs. J. P. Wood. 

S. W. Willis. 

H. A. Gallyon. 

Geo. Perkinson. 

Turkeys, quail, rabbits, 
deer. 

Chatham. 

New Bennett. 

Boarding houses. 

None. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 

Claremont. 

Tidewater. 

Carter Magee. 

W. W. Baugh. 

P. Wiedman. 

Quail, deer, rabbits, fox, 
squirrels, ducks, tur¬ 
keys, geese. 

Drewryville .... 

R. A. Pope. 

John P. Fox. 

Deer, turkeys, quail. 

East Stone Gap . . 

Montevista. 

(Big Stone Gap). 
Frank Sturgill. 

H. C. Stewart. 

G. S. Tate. 

F. L- Neely. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
"pheasants, ducks, wood¬ 
cocks, fox, wildcats, 
coons, minks, muskrats. 

Fieldale. 

Fieldale. 

Brice Stultz. 

B. M. Minter. 

J. Moss Prillaman. 

W. H. Rangeley. 

Brice Stultz. 

M. G. Bush. 

Quail, rabbits, turkeys, 
ducks. 

Front Royal .... 

Afton Inn. 

Strickler. 

Duckie Morgan. 

William Dudley. 

Rabbits, quail. 

Green Bay. 

C. T. Redd. 

George D. Barton. 

Charlie Barton. 

0 . C. Kauffman. 

S. S. Flippin. 

Quail, turkeys. 

Haymarket. 

Mrs. Peters. 

Miss M. P. Heineken. 

None. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Jetersville. 

R. M. Farmer. 

H. V. Thompson. 

Ouail, rabbits, deer. 

Keysville. 

Charlotte. 

Keysville. 

W. B. Wood. 

G. E. Wade. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
turkeys, deer. 

La Crosse. 

La Crosse. 

Willis. 

Ashley Thompson. 

Quail, woodcocks, deer, 
turkeys. 

Lawrenceville . . . 

Central. Purdy. 

Webb’s. 

C. H. Heartwell. 

Birds, turkeys, rabbits. 

Lester Manor . . . 

R. L. Brooks. 

J. E. Bradley. 

T. R. Miles. 

C. S. Bradley. 

G. M. Cook. 

Duck, water fowl, sora. 

Linden . 

Mrs. C. W. Walter. 

A. B. Walter. 

C. W. Walter 

Rabbits, birds, turkeys. 


Note.—H otels in italic. 































Southern Railway System 


Thirty-seven 


VIRGINIA—Continued 


Name of 
Town 

Hotels and 
Boarding Houses 

Lynchburg . 

Virginian. 

Carroll. 

Manassas. 

Prince William. 

Mrs. Phoebe Weir. 

Mrs. Margaret Lewis 

Markham. 

Mrs. Liza C. Smith. 

Marshall. 

Virginia. 

Marshall. 

Fauquier. 

Mattoax. 

J C. Badgett. 

Maurertown .... 

Doll House. 

Mendota. 

T. Leonard. 

Mitchell. 

Mrs. M. J. Cullen. 

New Market . . . . 

Weaver. 

Burke. 

O’Roark. 

Otter River .... 

Boarding houses. 

Randolph. 

W. A. Lacks. 

Rapidan. 

Miss Ellen Peyton. 

Remington. 

Stribling. 

Miss Sue Hall. 

Mrs. Maupin. 

Scottsburg. 

Mrs. J. R. Wimbish. 

Shipman. 

New Shipman 

McGinnis. 

Skipwith. 

Mrs. R. L. Thomasson 

South Hill. 

Nordan 

Bpes. 

Speer’s Ferry . . . 

Mrs. J. M. Herton. 

T. R. Taylor. 

Bower Bros. 

Spencer . 

Read. 

Stuart . 

Perkins. 

Shippords. 

The Plains. 

The Plains. 

Tourist Inn. 

Tunstall. 

W. K Lipscomb. 

Water Lick . . . . 

R. A. Mitchell. 

D. F. Frederick. 

J. W. Sutphin. 

P. B. Robinson. 

Waverly. 

Waverly. 

Mrs. B F. Cobb. 

West Point . . . . 

Royal. 

Mrs. C. W. Pumphrey. 

Witt. 

Miss Pattie Cardwell. 
Mrs. D. K. Witt. 

Woodstock. 

Woodstock. 

Mrs. Ella Martin. 

Miss A. Hollingsworth. 
Mrs. Annie Shaver. 


Names of Responsible 
Guides and Those 
Who Can Furnish 
Information 


William Johnson. 
J. Norman Smith. 

Ira Reid. 

C. L. Reading. 

R. M. Weir. 

W. C. Stribling. 
Thos. R. Foster. 
C. F. Ramsey. 


J. C. Badgett. 
Thos. Flinn. 
Wiley Lakey. 
G. W. Norris. 
F. B. Sims. 

C. D. Smoot. 
F. F. Linhoss. 
B. A. Guard. 
John Wolfe. 
Postmaster. 


F. X. Barksdale. 

S. D. Barksdale. 
Cheney Bros. & Jones. 
None. 

Dr. G. R. Cottingham. 
R. J. Shepherd. 

C. H. Torian. 

J. S. Walden. 

Louis P. Bailey. 

None. 

H. G. Moss. 

Carlton Thomas. 
None. 


None. 


J. W. Fair. 

Dr. B. F. Noland. 
Walter S. Gilbert. 
F. B. Moore. 

John. S. Taylor. 

F. G. Hatcher. 
Web. Dowell. 

N. D. Brown. 

T. C. Messick. 
Frank Sutphin. 

C. C. Robinson. 

J. J. Faison. 
Fmmett Jennings. 

B. F. White. 
Stanley Sturtz. 

W. C. Gouldman. 
L. R. Treat. 

G. R. Turner. 

G. B. Witt. 

W. R. Witt. 

Jos. Loughlin. 
West Hoshour. 
John Miller. 

C. F. Lambert. 


Kinds of 

Game 


Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
turkeys, deer, ducks, 
and pheasants. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
fox, coons, opossum. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels. 


Quail, squirrels, rabbits. 
Quail, rabbits, turkeys. 
Rabbits, squirrels, quail. 
Turkeys, quail, rabbits. 


Quail, pheasants, turkeys, 
rabbits, squirrels, bear. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
opossum, coons, musk- 
rats. 

Quail, squirrels, rabbits, 
turkeys, ducks. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Quail, ducks. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
turkeys, deer. 

Birds and rabbits. 

Quail, rabbits. 

Rabbits, quail, turkeys 
and deer. 

Quail, rabbits. 


Quail, rabbits. 
Quail, rabbits. 


Rabbits, quail, squirrels. 

Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
turkeys, ducks. 

Quail, turkeys, rabbits, 
ducks. 


Quail, deer, rabbits. 


Quail, rabbits, squirrels, 
sora, ducks, deer. 

Quail, rabbits, turkeys, 
opossum. 

Quail, rabbits. 


Note. —Hotels in italic. 







































Southern Railway System 


The Double-tracked Trunk Line between Washington, D. C., 
and Atlanta, Ga. The Pioneer Through Route between Cin¬ 
cinnati, Louisville, and Florida. The Standard Short Line 
between New Orleans and Cincinnati. The Direct Route 
between Memphis, Tenn., and Washington, D. C. 
Excellent Through and Local Service between Principal 
Points in the South. 




We SOUTHERN SERVES THE SOUTH 










































fOUTHERN Railway System 
agents everywhere will be glad 
to furnish you, or mail to any address 
free upon request, copy of this book¬ 
let, and otherwise assist you in mak¬ 
ing arrangements for your hunting 
trip. 

W. H. Tayloe 
Passenger Traffic Alanager 
Washington, D. C. 


W. A. Beckler 

Passenger Traffic Manager 
Cincinnati, Ohio 



10-1-23-50M-J-D. 




















